"Wanna Hang With Us?"
T and I go walking every evening. We don't walk together. I am far too slow with my cane. She likes to speed walk. I am lucky to get around the pond once. She generally walks, not just to the pond, but circles into the woods beyond, past the tennis courts, the basketball court, the public pool, sometimes even a golf course. I am exhausted after one lap around the pond and generally return to the car or find a bench to sit on and read my book until she joins me about an hour later.
This will all change once Winter settles in. Another reason that I detest Winter. There will be ice. And snow. My tentative, slow steps will become agonizingly slow, tentative steps. The groundskeeper usually does an excellent job at keeping the walks clear, but there is always ice somewhere. Plus...the cold. If it is above 30 degrees, we will still go, but we will have to go early as it gets dark around five p.m. Our whole mojo is messed up. On really cold days, we go to the mall instead to walk. T doesn't really mind. I do. The whole point of the walk to me is to be outside. Being inside is a different experience.
I am so partial to Towl Park. I love the pond. Love all the birds. The ducks. The frogs. I don't even mind the occasional snake. The trees. It all comes together in this beautiful canopy that puts my soul at ease.
I dread Winter. And please don't start going on about chili, hot savory stews or cozy blankets.
For now, though, it is still Summer at Towl Park. We still walk every evening. T also walks every morning at 5 a.m. before work. Not me. Getting up at 5 a.m. is just too hard. My joints are as rusty as the Tin Man's without his oil in the mornings. I can't do it. But...ahh. Those lovely evenings.
Currently, there is a problem in Towl Park. For the last week, we have seen an adolescent red fox walking around the parking lot. We often see red fox by the pond, but they are shy, beautiful creatures that do not let you get more than 20 feet near them. This fox is obviously an orphan. It's fur is not the shimmery reddish brown that is usually seen. It is a muddy, matted brown. It is still small. Not quite a baby anymore, but certainly not an adult. It's face is a red fox face, though. It looks intelligent and curious. A bit sly. But, it's most noticeable characteristic is that is hungry. So hungry that you can see its ribs. And it is not cautious around humans.
We are a tight knit group at Towl Park. Like a small town. We all know each other. A and B walk their dogs. C and D have ducks that they bring to the park in their Hummer once a week for a pond swim. The ducks come out when called and get back in the Hummer to go home when instructed to do so. E is an old fisherman who fishes nearly every day since he has retired. There are a lot of fishermen and fisherwomen. Lots of bird watchers. Walkers like T and me. Runners in their sleek outfits. Bikers who shout, "Behind you to the right!" as they sail by.
We have all noticed the fox. Many of us have named it. Buddy. Chief. Scout. Ragnar. I call it Jeremy because it reminds me of Jason Schwartzman in "Shopgirl." Most of us have called The Humane Society, who says that they have tried to catch it unsuccessfully several times. This is bullshit. The fox is so tame that it eats out of people's hands. Not MINE. I am timid. I grew up in the country and was raised to never approach a wild animal with ease. Still, we all talk about how to keep this fox alive until the Humane Society can come get it. (We are not really talking about what the Humane Society will do with it. We are city people and hope that it will be relocated to the zoo or something...)
I speak to several fishermen and women. One says that the fox sat beside him while he fished for an entire afternoon. That he was using hot dogs for bait and that occasionally he tossed one to Jeremy, who ate it "with genial gratitude." Another says that instead of tossing the small fish back, he tosses them to Jeremy. Still another admitted that when he took a lunch break and picked up at big Mac, he bought two and gave one to the fox. Several walkers and runners admit to feeding him dog biscuits or granola bars.
This is all fine for now. But, in a few months it will be Winter. The park will go mostly empty, except for the ice fishermen and women, a few brave walkers. The dog walkers. Does Jeremy have a warm den?
Hopefully, the Humane Society will have come by then. In the meantime, we wait.
Last night, I finished my walk and headed back to the car. Several college guys had just finished a game of pick up basketball. One of them, noticing Jeremy, went to fish out a can of cat food that he had in his car. He popped the can open and set it down. I smiled and sat in our car, reading. T came up soon after. She stopped to converse with the college guys. They talked first about the fox, then moved on to politics and their colleges and majors.
Then this conversation happened...
Cute college guy (let's call him ccg) to T: We're going to go play some pool. Wanna hang with us?
T: Naw. It's almost 8. Close to my bed time!
Everyone laughs.
ccg: Okay, cool. See you!
The college kids take off in their cars.
T gets in with me. I give her a long look.
Me: Did those guys just ask you to HANG with them?
T (sheepishly): Yeah. Guess so.
Me: Wow. You are 58, girl! Still a college deb, looks like.
T (shrugs): Yeah, guess so. But, you know. I think I could STILL have beat the snot out of them in pool. I still have it.
Me: Yes, you do, honey. You sure do.
This will all change once Winter settles in. Another reason that I detest Winter. There will be ice. And snow. My tentative, slow steps will become agonizingly slow, tentative steps. The groundskeeper usually does an excellent job at keeping the walks clear, but there is always ice somewhere. Plus...the cold. If it is above 30 degrees, we will still go, but we will have to go early as it gets dark around five p.m. Our whole mojo is messed up. On really cold days, we go to the mall instead to walk. T doesn't really mind. I do. The whole point of the walk to me is to be outside. Being inside is a different experience.
I am so partial to Towl Park. I love the pond. Love all the birds. The ducks. The frogs. I don't even mind the occasional snake. The trees. It all comes together in this beautiful canopy that puts my soul at ease.
I dread Winter. And please don't start going on about chili, hot savory stews or cozy blankets.
For now, though, it is still Summer at Towl Park. We still walk every evening. T also walks every morning at 5 a.m. before work. Not me. Getting up at 5 a.m. is just too hard. My joints are as rusty as the Tin Man's without his oil in the mornings. I can't do it. But...ahh. Those lovely evenings.
Currently, there is a problem in Towl Park. For the last week, we have seen an adolescent red fox walking around the parking lot. We often see red fox by the pond, but they are shy, beautiful creatures that do not let you get more than 20 feet near them. This fox is obviously an orphan. It's fur is not the shimmery reddish brown that is usually seen. It is a muddy, matted brown. It is still small. Not quite a baby anymore, but certainly not an adult. It's face is a red fox face, though. It looks intelligent and curious. A bit sly. But, it's most noticeable characteristic is that is hungry. So hungry that you can see its ribs. And it is not cautious around humans.
We are a tight knit group at Towl Park. Like a small town. We all know each other. A and B walk their dogs. C and D have ducks that they bring to the park in their Hummer once a week for a pond swim. The ducks come out when called and get back in the Hummer to go home when instructed to do so. E is an old fisherman who fishes nearly every day since he has retired. There are a lot of fishermen and fisherwomen. Lots of bird watchers. Walkers like T and me. Runners in their sleek outfits. Bikers who shout, "Behind you to the right!" as they sail by.
We have all noticed the fox. Many of us have named it. Buddy. Chief. Scout. Ragnar. I call it Jeremy because it reminds me of Jason Schwartzman in "Shopgirl." Most of us have called The Humane Society, who says that they have tried to catch it unsuccessfully several times. This is bullshit. The fox is so tame that it eats out of people's hands. Not MINE. I am timid. I grew up in the country and was raised to never approach a wild animal with ease. Still, we all talk about how to keep this fox alive until the Humane Society can come get it. (We are not really talking about what the Humane Society will do with it. We are city people and hope that it will be relocated to the zoo or something...)
I speak to several fishermen and women. One says that the fox sat beside him while he fished for an entire afternoon. That he was using hot dogs for bait and that occasionally he tossed one to Jeremy, who ate it "with genial gratitude." Another says that instead of tossing the small fish back, he tosses them to Jeremy. Still another admitted that when he took a lunch break and picked up at big Mac, he bought two and gave one to the fox. Several walkers and runners admit to feeding him dog biscuits or granola bars.
This is all fine for now. But, in a few months it will be Winter. The park will go mostly empty, except for the ice fishermen and women, a few brave walkers. The dog walkers. Does Jeremy have a warm den?
Hopefully, the Humane Society will have come by then. In the meantime, we wait.
Last night, I finished my walk and headed back to the car. Several college guys had just finished a game of pick up basketball. One of them, noticing Jeremy, went to fish out a can of cat food that he had in his car. He popped the can open and set it down. I smiled and sat in our car, reading. T came up soon after. She stopped to converse with the college guys. They talked first about the fox, then moved on to politics and their colleges and majors.
Then this conversation happened...
Cute college guy (let's call him ccg) to T: We're going to go play some pool. Wanna hang with us?
T: Naw. It's almost 8. Close to my bed time!
Everyone laughs.
ccg: Okay, cool. See you!
The college kids take off in their cars.
T gets in with me. I give her a long look.
Me: Did those guys just ask you to HANG with them?
T (sheepishly): Yeah. Guess so.
Me: Wow. You are 58, girl! Still a college deb, looks like.
T (shrugs): Yeah, guess so. But, you know. I think I could STILL have beat the snot out of them in pool. I still have it.
Me: Yes, you do, honey. You sure do.
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